


you breathe the fickle air (and say the words i never heard)

by harpers_mirror (SapphireBryony)



Series: a man of many fears [2]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Cuddling To Stay Warm, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M/M, Multi, Poly Relationship, Post-Series, reactions to space-trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 18:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6968260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBryony/pseuds/harpers_mirror
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first winter back on Earth raises some painful issues for the survivors of the USS Hephaestus. Fortunately, they have each other to guard against the cold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you breathe the fickle air (and say the words i never heard)

“Good god, Eiffel. You wearing enough layers there?” Renée Minkowski had opened the front door to find a vaguely Eiffel-shaped bundle of winter gear standing on the other side. A blizzard’s worth of snow swirled and danced through the air behind him.

“Mmmmph,” replied the bundle, kicking snow off its boots and stepping inside. She laughed and stepped back to admit him.

“Come again there, Admiral Perry? Didn’t quite catch that. Also, aren’t you from  _ Boston _ originally? Shouldn’t you be used to this kind of weather?”

He unwrapped the muffler from around his face, rolling his eyes. “I  _ said _ ‘just trying to stay warm,’ Commander. And while I  _ do _ hail from the city of anarchic tea parties, I’m still getting used to climates I can’t control just by asking everyone’s favorite benevolent voice in the sky.” He’d unbundled himself, shedding his many outer layers to reveal a thick sweater. 

As they headed into the kitchen to find Dominik, Renée made a mental note to adjust the heat in the house so he didn’t roast.

 

* * *

 

It was later that night, while they were watching a weird old movie, that the trouble started. The storm outside had reached a fever pitch, the wind howling past the windows and the snow limiting visibility to approximately two inches in front of one’s face. 

This was apparently sufficient to knock out all the power for the area.

As the room went dark and the television cut out with a pop, all three jumped. The blackness that dropped around them was absolute.

In the clumsy bustling that followed the sudden onset of darkness - finding and lighting candles, switching off electronics and lights so they wouldn't blare to life at 3 am, digging a camping lantern out of the garage - Eiffel's uncharacteristic silence went unnoticed. It was only when Minkowski settled back down onto the couch, snuggling into her husband's arms, that she saw the tension, the clench of his jaw. Sitting as close as they were, she could feel him trembling.   
  
"Eiffel?" she asked, curious. "You okay?"   
  
His reply came tersely through gritted teeth. "Yup."   
  
And she knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. He never used one word when twenty-three would suffice, with at least a third dedicated to some obscure pop culture reference. Doug Eiffel was a lot of things, but "succinct" was not one of them.   
  
Gazing at him in concern, Renée took in his hunched posture, huddled into the far corner of the couch. She saw the anxiety on his face thrown into sharp relief by the flickering candlelight, saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly. There was a depth of fear in his eyes that slammed into her and transported her in a flash back to the Hephaestus, and she shuddered, cringing back into Dominik’s arms for a moment. Then she remembered his odd behavior upon arrival earlier and the pieces clicked together to form a stomach-knotting whole.   
  
She retrieved a fuzzy throw from the back of the armchair by the window and draped it over his tense shoulders, silently cursing herself for not having figured it out sooner. Eiffel looked up in surprise as she knelt down in front of him, her hands on his knees. 

"It's the cold, isn't it? You can't stand it."   
  
Doug swallowed again and closed his eyes, unable to meet her sympathetic gaze. He nodded, a quick, jerky motion.   
  
"Yeah. Ever since...you know. The Unending Nightmare. Even though I  _ know _ I'm not gonna freeze to death here, I just can't be cold. I can't. And it's making me feel totally crazy and ridiculous. When I woke up this morning and saw the snow, I felt like..."   
  
He trailed off, staring resolutely at his knees, misery and shame etched across his features.

“Hey,” she said gently, tightening her hands in a gesture of what she hoped was reassurance. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain it. I get it.” She glanced away, taking a deep breath. “The cold and I don’t have the greatest relationship either, not after...after up there. But we won’t let you freeze.”

He still didn’t meet her eyes, looking like he was fighting tears and hating himself for it. She caught her husband’s eye over Eiffel’s shoulder and nodded. Dominik, bless him, didn’t ask any questions but immediately leaned towards their friend, touching him carefully. Even so, Renée saw him flinch at the affection and her heart sank. She didn’t have all the details about  _ why _ he tended to react to unexpected touching with startled discomfort and frankly didn’t want them. The picture her observations painted was bleak enough. 

Pushing her sadness aside, she tightened her grip, hoping to ground him. “Hey. Talk to me, Eiffel. What can I do to help?”

He closed his eyes, but she saw a few tears slip slowly down his cheeks, reflecting the wavering light of the candles. “I...” he whispered, trailing off. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, Commander. I can’t...” he swallowed with some effort. “I can’t hide all winter, and I can’t just pack up and  _ move _ either but I can’t  _ deal _ with this! I know it’s dumb and irrational, and that I won’t freeze to death in a city with a hot-coffee-supplying Starbucks on every corner, but I just...” Eiffel sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know how to convince my  _ brain _ of that. I don’t know how to convince myself that I’m not going to have to crack the ice off my lungs when I wake up cold every morning and I feel like I’m going  _ completely batshit crazy.”  _ His voice broke on the last word, and he closed his mouth, dragging a hand over his face and looking very tired.

Tears pricked at her own eyes now and it took a moment to force them away. She could let herself cry for her friend later if she wanted, but now it would only send Eiffel spiraling deeper into guilt and self-recrimination. Reaching out a hand, she gently cupped his cheek, tilting his face up so he looked at her.

“Hey, shhh. Eiffel. It’s okay. You’re not crazy.” Minkowski paused, a faint grin sliding across her features. “Okay, we both know  _ that’s _ a lie. But I don’t think you’re crazy  _ for this.” _

She was gratified to see the corner of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. She pressed on.

“But listen to me, Eiffel. It’s okay. It’s okay that you’re scared and it’s okay that you’re upset and, believe it or not, it’s okay to be scared and upset in front of other people.” She sighed. “I know  _ I’m _ a terrible example, but it really is.”

Eiffel sighed and leaned into her hand. “I know, Minkowski, but...well for one thing, if you start talking about your deep-seated space trauma to most people, they either think you’re a crazy liar at worst, or have no way of relating at  _ best.  _ And for another...” He trailed off and pulled away from her, shutting himself down before he could go any further.

There was no way he was getting off that easily. She slid onto the couch next to him and caught his hand. “What?”

“It’s really not a big -”

“Eiffel,” Minkowski said in her best  _ I am your commanding officer and you  _ **_will_ ** _ obey me _ voice. “Finish that sentence. Please.”

Without meeting her eye, he muttered. “And for another thing, it’s not like I really have anyone to tell. Not outside of you guys, anyway. And you’re busy enough without having to put up with your former idiot communications officer’s inability to handle his feelings. I don’t want to bother you with this stuff.”

“Okay, let’s get a few things straight, Eiffel. One - and I’m only going to say this once, so listen and listen good -  _ you are not bothering us. _ We invited you over because we like having you around.” Her eyes flicked over to Dominik’s for a moment and then back to Doug’s. “Two, you’re our  _ friend. _ Friends listen to each other and help each other. This is not some weird thing only you do.”

Dominik broke in. “Admittedly, your issues are a lot  _ stranger _ than most people’s, but if there’s anyone who can understand how you feel, it’s us. Well, mostly her, but who do you think helped  _ her  _ handle the...what did you call it? ‘Deep-seated space trauma?’ If you’re worried about other people not understanding, that makes sense. But if you’re saying even  _ we _ wouldn’t understand, you’re just looking for reasons not to talk to anyone.”

Minkowski briefly glanced over at her husband with a mixture of surprise and affection, then returned her full attention to the man beside her. “Exactly. Well said, dear.”

Eiffel was staring at them both in evident surprise, so she scooted closer and, after a moment’s consideration, pulled him into a tight hug. Startled, he hesitated, then wrapped his arms around her too and they sat together for a long moment as the tension around them began to dissipate. “And three,” she murmured in his ear, “You’ve been more than just my ‘idiot communications officer’ for a long time.”

Feeling him tense up again, she let him go, brusque practicality dropping back into place to cover sappy sentimentality. “Right then, let’s see what we can do to stay as warm as possible.”

“I can think of a few things,” laughed Dominik from the other end of the couch and Renée rolled her eyes. She saw him wrap an arm around Doug’s shoulders and start to pull him back against him, only for Doug to tense up.

“Hey, uh, I’m fine. Got this nice fluffy blanket and everyth-thing.” The effect was ruined as his teeth chattered on the last word. It reminded Minkowski sharply of the way Hera’s voice used to glitch when she was stressed out or upset and it sent a pang of sadness through her at the connection.

She was also getting tired of him pulling back every time someone tried to help him, so wrapped up in his own mystique as the perpetual train wreck, that he refused to see the ways things could get better. Minkowski knew that, in order to  _ make _ him see, she and Dominik were going to have to peel back a lifetime of protective walls, and that was a bigger job that could be tackled in this one night.

But they could  _ start _ \- Dominik already had, in fact, not making Doug lean into him but trailing a comforting hand up and down the younger man's back. They could start and see how far Eiffel would let them continue, and maybe their message of “We love you, now let us  _ help _ you, goddamn it” would sink in.

The blunt approach usually worked pretty well with Eiffel, especially when he started to freak out. (And, if Renée was being perfectly honest with herself, she didn't have a whole lot of other approaches.) She sighed, unsure of what to say. This sort of thing was really more Dominik's strong suit than hers but she owed it to Eiffel to try. Laying her hands on his shoulders, she pinned him with a look.

“Eiffel. I’m going to ask you something and I want you to answer honestly.”

“Ohhhkay?” His voice scaled upwards into the high-pitched range that she knew meant he was worried and she sighed.

“If you really don't want to sit here with us then that's totally fine. Plenty of other chairs. I’ll even get you more blankets so you don't have to worry about the cold. I promise. But I need you to believe me when I - when  _ we _ \- tell you that we like having you around. We like...I mean...” She trailed off, blushing bright red under her freckles. “Oh damn it. Nik? Want to jump in here?”

Dominik, still idly tracing a hand up and down Doug's back and clearly enjoying her awkward fumbling for words  _ entirely _ too much, grinned and leaned forward so he wasn't speaking to Eiffel’s back.

“What I think my emotionally awkward yet adorable wife is  _ trying  _ to say is that we like you. Not just in the sense of having you around and hanging out with you, though definitely also that, but that we like being here when you need us. It’s not that we don’t  _ mind _ being here. We  _ like _ helping you because you’re our friend and we care about you.” He said all of this with patience, though taking obvious care never to sound patronizing, he kept his tone light. But there was a direct intensity in his eyes as he held Eiffel’s gaze that belied this lightness.

Doug stared at him, the blanket sliding off one shoulder. “Oh,” was all he managed. “I...oh.”

Renée raised an eyebrow at her husband who shrugged. “You strike me as the sort of man on whom the subtle approach is wasted.” Pausing for a moment, he seemed to come to some decision. “And on a related note, Doug, when I say we like you? I mean we  _ like _like you, too. In the complete middle-school sense of the phrase. Do with that what you will.” 

_ “Dominik,”  _ hissed his wife. “Do you really think  _ now  _ is the time?” She was red-faced even in the dim candle and lantern light, and looked rather flustered.

“Darling, we’re huddling for warmth during a power outage. If this were television, we’d be naked already. And Eiffel is definitely the sort of man who appreciates a good real-life trope moment.”

Minkowski buried her burning cheeks in her hands and waited for the sound of Eiffel running for the door. When she heard nothing, when she didn’t feel him move from his place beside her, she peeked hesitantly through her fingers. 

She saw her husband staring at Eiffel with a level, slightly challenging gaze. She couldn’t see Eiffel’s face - he had turned to face Dominik fully at some point, but she could tell he was stock still. Biting her lip, and with a great sense of trepidation, she righted the blanket on his shoulder, smoothing it down and letting her hand rest on his arm. 

“Doug, I don’t want you to think that we expect anything from - ”

She was cut off by Eiffel’s sudden movement toward Dominik, a hesitant reaching out to take his hand. Dom covered Eiffel’s cold palm with both his own and simply looked at him, not saying anything to break the fragile, expectant silence that hung between them.

“Okay, I want...” Eiffel took a deep breath. “I just want to make sure I understand what you’re saying before I make a total idiot of myself and have to commit ritual suicide in my humiliation.”

“I’m saying, Eiffel, that in addition to loving you very much as our friend, we also like you in the ‘want to kiss you and do other naughty things should you be amenable’ sort of way. But only,” he added, sobering, “if you absolutely one hundred percent want to. Not because you think it’s what we want, not for any weird twisted sense of owing us or because you think you need to. Only if it’s something you genuinely want. Because if you do, we do too. Just say the word. And if that word is ‘no,’ consider it dropped. Renée finds some more blankets, we make you into a nice little warm Doug-burrito, and nothing happens other than you staying safe here from the storm.” He shrugged. “But if that word is ‘yes,’ we’ll figure it out from there. It’s all on you, Doug.”

Minkowski had never been more grateful for her husband’s ability to articulate his feelings in a clear, concise way, even as her stomach turned with trepidation, fearing that, despite Dominik’s reassurances, they’d just screwed up big time and Eiffel would run. She still couldn’t see his face, and he was still sitting motionless.

And then he surprised her. He leaned toward Dominik and paused, his face a fraction of an inch away from the other man’s. “Dom, I...oh, screw it.” He closed the distance between them and kissed him.

They made a lovely picture in the flickering dim light, Dominik’s hands on Doug’s waist, Doug bracing himself against Dominik’s chest as he kissed him hesitantly at first, then, as if realizing this was not just permitted but  _ happening, _ with greater enthusiasm and desire. 

They broke apart with a soft sigh from Doug. Dominik glanced at his wife and gave her a thumbs-up sign. 

“Told you the subtle approach would be wasted on him.” He moved to kiss Doug again, but Doug started, seeming to remember that Minkowski was still sitting behind him. Turning, looking almost guilty, he faced her.

“Uh, Minkowski?” he asked, sounding nervous. “I - was that really okay? I mean, with you sitting here? I mean - “

If Doug Eiffel could get over himself and make this particular leap of faith, then so could she. Grasping the edges of the blanket still draped around his shoulders, she pulled him close and kissed him, and he melted against her.

Pulling back for a second, she released the blanket and ran her hands through his hair, smoothing it back from his face. “Eiffel,” she said, “It was absolutely okay. I promise.” She kissed him again, lightly, giving him time to back away if he wanted, though the idea that he  _ might _ stabbed at her heart with surprising sharpness.

“Are  _ you _ still okay with all this?” she asked after a moment’s silence had passed, aching to kiss him again but resisting until she knew for certain that he was on board with everything.

Slowly, he nodded, gaze flicking down to rest on her lips. Dominik leaned in close to them both, pressing a kiss to the side of Eiffel’s neck, and his eyes fluttered briefly shut with a little gasp that sent a jolt right through her.

With a deep shuddering breath, he nodded and opened his eyes. “Ohhhh yeah, Commander,” he said as Dominik continued to kiss his way down his neck. “I’m in. I am  _ all _ in.” And he captured her lips again, kissing her like he wanted to dive in and never come up for air.

Dimly, she heard a click and a muffled thump as somewhere in the basement, the power was restored and the furnace kicked back to life.

 

* * *

 

Staring at the darkened ceiling of her bedroom, Renée Minkowski sighed contentedly and rolled over, shifting slightly under the weight of her husband's hand resting on her hip.   
  
He mumbled sleepily and nestled against her back more closely. She smiled into the darkness, feeling him burrow his face into her hair. Carefully, she reached back to sweep her hair over her shoulder, twisting it into a rope as she did, hoping that would keep it out of Dominik's face and allow him to breathe.   
  
Unfortunately, this gesture meant she had to take her hand away from her other companion. She heard Eiffel's steady, relaxed breathing change, heard the sharp inhalation and felt him shift restlessly beside her. Hastily, Renée resumed tracing her hand up and down his back.   
  
"Shhh, Eiffel, it's okay. I'm here. We're both here, get some sleep."   
  
Under her touch, Doug quieted again. His breathing slowed and he muttered something under his breath. Thinking a quick apology to her husband, Renée slid gently out of Dominik's grasp to be nearer to Doug.   
  
"Hmmm?"   
  
"Don't leave me," he mumbled. The quietly sad, lost tone of his voice tore at her heart. Wrapping an arm around his midsection, she curled around her friend, holding him tightly as she pressed a kiss against his neck.   
  
"Not for anything in the world or beyond, Doug. You're stuck with me."   
  
Her words seemed to rouse him a bit, and he rolled over slightly to face her. Renée sat up a bit, leaning on one elbow to gaze down at him, her arm still draped across his chest, her other hand moving to rest tangled in his fluffy hair.    
  
Illuminated by the beam of moonlight cutting through the slats of the window blinds, Eiffel's face looked terribly young and troubled as he turned sleep-clouded eyes on her.   
  
"Min-Minkowski? You promise?"   
  
"I promise. You will always be safe here. And you will never be alone. Deal?"   
  
He flashed a smile at her, a look of such happy affection that her heart broke just a little more. She never let herself think too hard about the kind of life Doug Eiffel must have led before they met that something as simple as "not being alone" could make him beam so.   
  
Raising a hand to her face, he brushed it along her cheek before slipping it around to the back of her neck. Hesitating only slightly - the reassurances she and Dominik had given him earlier must have actually sunk in somewhat - he pulled her face down to meet his and placed a shy kiss on her lips.   
  
Knowing how much he needed to be reminded of it, Renée poured as much love and affection into the kiss as she could.    
  
_ You are safe, _ she told him, lips moving softly against his, her hand petting his hair.    
  
_ You are wanted, _ she told him, hands trailing down his sides, nails biting lightly, her body moving in time with his.   
  
_ You are loved, _ she told him, arms wrapped around him as they drifted off to sleep.   
  
"Love you. So much," she heard him whisper, right on the edge of sleep. 

As she brushed an answering kiss against his cheek, she felt Dominik snuggle up close behind Doug, now settled securely between them both, and wrap one arm around the pair of them.

“And we love you too,” came his low reply. 

They all three fell asleep, warm and safe and together.   


**Author's Note:**

> Whew, had no idea at the outset that this would end up being my longest oneshot to date! This was originally going to be a little follow-up piece to [Arachnophobia](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6827665) dealing with more of Eiffel's fears after returning to Earth...and then it took on a life of its own.
> 
> Thanks eternally to Tygr for the wonderful betaing and to everyone else who read and gave feedback.
> 
> Title taken from "First Winter" by Honeybucket.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [the subtle approach](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7115290) by [harpers_mirror (SapphireBryony)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBryony/pseuds/harpers_mirror)




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